


How we grow

by hanasolomen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Gen, Neville-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9253517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanasolomen/pseuds/hanasolomen
Summary: this is the story of how Neville Longbottom grows from the awkward magically challenged kid that everyone thinks they know to the competent and confident wizard that everyone sees during the battle of Hogwarts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> tags will be updated when needed for each new chapter.

He didn’t belong in Gryffindor. Everyone said so. His gran was shocked that he even got a Hogwarts letter she didn’t think he had enough magic to be excepted. He had seen the pamphlets for the other schools when he had gotten Trever from his grans study when he was ten. Most people only know about the great wizarding schools, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and the Ilvermorny School. But there were other schools. Ones that discreetly taught Semiis, witches and wizards with very little magic but who were not quite squibs. Neville had looking into the second Salem school for Semiis. It hadn’t seemed that bad compared to how some families treated Semiis.

But he had gotten his Hogwarts letter. He had been sorted into Gryffindor house the same as his parents. His gran may not think he belonged, his teachers may silently agree with her, except Snape, he said how useless he thought Neville was to his face but that didn’t matter because Neville was here and he was here to stay. 

Neville shook his head to clear out those thoughts and focused on his potions essay. It wasn’t due for a month and none of the Gryffindors had even thought about starting besides Hermione but Neville had decided that he wasn’t going to give Snape any more reason to ridicule him then his brewing already did. 

That’s how he found himself sitting under the large table in the back of greenhouse 12 trying to apply his knowledge of gillyweed to how it would help with healing potions. He had found this hiding place by accident way back in his first year when he was looking for a safe place to hide before his anxiety attack fully set in after their first flying lesson. 

Greenhouse 12 housed many plants that most students at Hogwarts wouldn’t ever see. it was where the newt level Herbology classes took place. There were Sigrrinas, or singing poppies. Neville had taught them some songs he knew from visiting his mum at St. Mongos. There were spitting lilies in a pond at the back of the greenhouse. They looked much like normal waterlilies except for the way they could spit water up to three feet. Neville had ended up socked to many times to count when he was watching them. 

When the fire flowers by the door started to light themselves Neville packed up his books and parchment before heading out the back door. Petting the seedling devils snare as he went. He could hear the newt class at the front doors waiting for professor sprout. 

He didn’t really have any friends at school. He spoke to the boys in his dorm and they got on well but Luna was the closest he had to a friend. she was a bit odd. Not in a bad way but in a way that it is always hard to make a connection with her. He liked her anyway. She listened to him prattle on about plants and he learned about her weird creatures. 

Anyway the point was that he didn’t really have any friends so no one really missed him when he went to the greenhouse to work on his essay or to even notice when he commandeered one of the third floor classrooms to work on his atrocious spell work. 

It was only the first week of classes so there wasn’t really all that much to work on but he was already years behind his classmates. It sucked having people think that you’re not good enough to bother with. He had spent all of his summer holiday listening to his gran talk about how great her son was and how amazing her daughter-in-law was. How Alice was the kind of woman that she would have expected her blood daughter to be. 

Neville had spent as much time as he could hiding in his greenhouse in the gardens. His uncle had set it up when he had visited them the summer after Neville’s second year at school. His gran hadn’t protested because Herbology didn’t require magic and it was a way to make a living. Not a way she approved of but she didn’t expect much from her grandson.

 

Neville wandered around the castle for a while avoiding returning to his common room. It was cozy and full of people but he never quite felt like he belonged. Hogwarts was hosting the tri wizard tournament this year and he was so grateful for the age requirement that was placed on it or his gran would be demanding that he enter his name. she had already sent him a howler about it. Neville got a lot of howlers from his gran. He had eventually trained grans owl Cambridge to deliver them to his room and not the great hall. 

He had to go to McGonagall and she sent his gran a letter explaining that Neville was underage and therefor under the new laws unable to participate. Anyway he was avoiding the common room because he knew that all of his dorm mates would still be obsessing over the Beauxbatons girls. It wasn’t as if the Beauxbatons girls were any better than the girls his classmates normally went after. 

“ow” he was drawn out of his thoughts when he heard that. When you don’t do well with people you spend a lot of time in your head. The youngest Beauxbatons girl was sitting on the ground in one of the gardens with a few small bites on her hand. “they bite” he said dumbly nodding to the roses. “they’re bread like that so people won’t pick them.” He handed her his handkerchief. His classmates would tease him about carrying one but he spent a lot of time in the dirt and was rubbish at cleaning spells. “bread?” the girl asked “not spelled?” “no. if you spell them the magic can put a strain on the flowers and cause them to wither and die. Even when they are properly cared for. So some herbologists cross bread roses with Venus fly traps and other biting plants.” He bit his tong when he realized that he was rambling. “sorry.” He started to walk away when something tugged on his vest. 

“I’m Gabrielle.” She said when he turned around. She seemed to remember her manners and added “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance” the girl couldn’t have been more than 8 but Neville knew that most wizarding families made a big deal of proper manners at a young age. His gran had drilled his into him daily for years.

“I’m Neville Longbottom. And the pleasure is all mine miss Gabrielle.” He said with a little bow that had the little girl giggling. “if you want some roses that you can pick.” He said when she calmed down. “wild ones grow by the edge of the forest but you shouldn’t get to close to the forest when you’re by yourself.” “could you take me?” she asked bouncing on her toes. Neville looked up to the sky. 

“it’s getting late. Why don’t I walk you back to your rooms so you don’t get lost and if you still want to I’ll take you to pick some flowers tomorrow.” “alright.” she said and took Neville’s hand and started to drag him in the direction of the castle door he had come out of. “are there anymore biting flowers?” “well there are a number of flesh eating trees.” He started as they walked back to the guest quarters.


End file.
